


It's Hard To Breathe (Sometimes)

by raewrites98



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sick Fic, Sick Magnus Bane, mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22706470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raewrites98/pseuds/raewrites98
Summary: A sudden and particularly nasty coughing fit wracks his frame and he turns, covering his mouth with a hand. It leaves him shaking, inhaling a sharp, burning breath.Alec frowns. “You aren’t getting sick, are you?” he asks, concern coloring his voice.Magnus scoffs. “Of course not,” he says with feigned confidence, in an attempt to hide the trembling of his voice. Everyone knows warlocks are incapable of falling ill. They are immune to nearly every mundane disease in existence.  And, with or without his magic, Magnus is still a warlock. “I’m just tired.”(OR: Magnus gets the flu. Alec takes care of him. Set after 3x10.)
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 7
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> In which Magnus might be sick, but he won't admit it.

Magnus wakes to the soft press of lips against his forehead. He groans, sliding further into the cocoon of blankets wrapped so snugly around him.

“Magnus,” Alec softly laughs, “wake up.”

“No.” He winces. His throat stings with a burning passion, as if scraped raw with sandpaper. A rhythmic pounding has nestled itself behind his eyes and a deep ache resides in his bones. It’s been there ever since he lost his magic on that fateful night a month ago. A hollow, empty feeling, like a piece of his soul is missing. He doesn’t think he’ll every grow used to it. He hopes he won’t have to.

The chill that accompanies the ache, however, is new. It travels down his spine, leaving him a shivering, sleepy mess. No matter how many blankets he hides under, he can’t seem to chase the cold away.

“And if I made breakfast?” Alec asks, his words a sweet, merciful promise.

He sticks his head out from under the covers, blinking at the sudden light that floods his eyes. It stings. “Why didn’t you say so before?” he mumbles after Alec, who has turned back towards the kitchen. He contemplates staying in bed, until his stomach gives a loud growl. With a sigh, Magnus pushes himself up and off the mattress. His hands shake as he reaches for whatever shirt is closest, which ends up being one of Alec’s hoodies. Suppressing a yawn, he shuffles out of the room.

Alec sets their plates on the table. “Coffee or tea?”

“Tea, please.” Perhaps that will soothe the burn in his throat. His stomach rumbles at the sight of all this food. Alec really outdid himself. There are heaps of bacon and eggs, with slices of French toast and fresh fruit as sides. It’s definitely too much for just the two of them. “What’s all this about?” he asks when Alec sets the steaming cup of tea in front of him.

Alec shrugs. He takes the seat opposite of Magnus. “I just felt like making breakfast.” 

The small, nervous smile on Alec’s face tells him there is more to the story, but he lets it be for now. “Well, it looks wonderful.” He sips his tea, warmth radiating through his fingertips as he holds the porcelain cup. They sit in comfortable silence, basking in the golden glow of the rising sun peeking through the windows.

Magnus spends more time pushing his food around, rather than eating it. Though the thought of breakfast had first made his stomach growl, he quickly finds his appetite diminishing. He can barely lift his fork to his lips without a bout of nausea washing over him.

Alec notices. “Is everything okay? Does it not taste good?” A slight frown settles on his face. He is sporting a fresh case of bed-head, his hair looking as if a whirlwind tore through it while he slept. It’s quite endearing.

Magnus shakes his head. “Everything’s lovely.” He sighs, setting his fork down. “I’m just not that hungry right now.”

“Oh.” Alec looks down at his plate.

Magnus clasps Alec’s hand in his own. “Your cooking is lovely, I promise.”

Alec manages a soft smile. “Good.” He squeezes Magnus’ fingers and leans back with a sigh. “It’s just…” He shakes his head. “Never mind.”

“What?” Magnus asks.

“It’s stupid.” Alec fidgets with the edges of his napkin. “I just wanted to do something nice for you, I know things have been rough lately…” He trails off.

Magnus’ chest swells with emotion, both love and guilt. It’s no surprise Alec noticed his sour mood these past few weeks. He doesn’t want Alec to feel responsible for the events leading up to Lilith’s banishment, especially when it was Magnus’ own decision to give up his magic. So, he tried his best to hide his struggle. To no avail, apparently.

“Thank you, Alexander,” he eventually says. He gives Alec’s hand a soft squeeze. “I truly appreciate it.” To prove it, he forces down whatever unease he’s feeling in his stomach and continues eating. They finish breakfast in comfortable silence.

Magnus watches with quiet delight as Alec does the dishes, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong, defined arms, which are currently covered in soap. Magnus wasn’t allowed to lift so much as a finger. Alec banned him from helping. He can’t help but smile. It’s so…domestic.

A sudden and particularly nasty coughing fit wracks his frame and he turns, covering his mouth with a hand. It leaves him shaking, inhaling a sharp, burning breath.

Alec frowns. “You aren’t getting sick, are you?” He asks, concern coloring his voice.

Magnus scoffs. “Of course not,” he says with feigned confidence, in an attempt to hide the trembling of his voice. Everyone knows warlocks are incapable of falling ill. They are immune to nearly every mundane disease in existence. And with or without his magic, he is still a warlock. “I’m just tired.”

“Should you reschedule your meeting with Dot?” Alec asks. He turns the faucet off and places the last plate on the drying rack.

Magnus dismisses the idea with a wave of his hand. “She’ll have my head if I cancel on her again.” He had plans with Dot for lunch later that afternoon. They have a tradition of meeting up at least once a month to catch up on each other’s lives. He already rescheduled their meeting last month and while Dot would certainly understand if he told her he wasn’t feeling well, he still can’t help wanting to avoid disappointing her by cancelling again.

“If you say so,” Alec says, clearly not entirely convinced. He starts shuffling around the loft, gathering his things for the day. “You sure you don’t want me to call Cat?” He stands hesitantly at the door, jacket in hand.

Magnus walks up to him, a soft smile on his face. “I’m fine, Alexander.”

Alec chews his bottom lip. Finally, he relents. “I’ll be in my office all day, so call me if you need me, okay?” He gives Magnus a soft kiss, hand coming up to clasp his cheek. “Stay safe.”

Magnus rests his head against Alec’s for a second “You too,” he whispers. Even though Alec has been going back to work for a few weeks now, Magnus’ heart still stutters every time he walks out that door. The image of Alec in that alley, broken and bleeding, haunts him in his sleep. He can’t lose him.

“I promise.” With one last kiss, the door slides closed with a soft click.

***

Magnus stares at the napkin in his hand. The white cotton fabric is stained with drops of yellow and red. He’s still breathing heavily after a sudden coughing fit, lungs burning with the need for oxygen.

“Are you okay?” Dot asks from her seat opposite of him, a frown on her face.

Startled out of his trance, Magnus hurries to hide the napkin and folds it in his lap. He stalls by taking a long gulp of his warm, sharp scented tea. It does little to soothe the ache in his throat. “Perfectly fine, darling.” He schools his face into a smile.

The two of them are at Magnolia’s, one of the best bakeries in all of New York. It’s been forever since Magnus last stepped foot in their establishment. He used to summon his favorite pies and pastries from to his loft, and always made sure to leave a hefty tip, of course. But he can’t do that anymore. _Yet a_ _nother downside of being utterly mundane,_ he thinks bitterly.

Dot eyes him with a raised eyebrow. “All these years and you’re still a terrible liar.” She leans forward, her dark hair tumbling past her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

Magnus sighs. He puts his cup down with trembling hands, nearly spilling some of it on the wooden table. For a moment, tucked into a corner of this small bakery, he lets his facade drop. His shoulders sag. His forced smile fades into a grimace. “I’m tired, Dorothea.”

He doesn’t mean physically. Not in the way his eyes burn from a terrible night’s rest, or the way his body lacks a certain grace when he moves. No, he is mentally tired. He is tired the constant worry, the unending spiral of negative thoughts he finds himself stuck in lately, seemingly unable to break free.

Dorothea senses the meaning hidden in his words. She has always been good at reading him, which is why he felt so drawn to her when they first met. She clasps his hand between her smaller ones. “You know we’re here for you Magnus. All of us. The whole warlock community agrees that no matter what, you’re still family.”

The downside of being part of a community of magical, immortal warlocks is that they have a tendency to gossip, and while Magnus usually loves being a part of that, he doesn’t love being the subject of their dramatic whispers. Word travels fast in the Downworld. It had taken no less than three days before everyone knew of his magic-less state.

“Thank you.” He doesn’t know what else to say. He thought the warlocks would want nothing to do with him, apart from a select few like Catarina and Dot. To hear that they are willing to support him, even though he is no longer High Warlock or even capable of practicing magic, means the world to him. It helps lift some of the weight from his shoulders.

“You’ll get through this,” Dot says with a determined smile. “You’re Magnus Bane, after all.”

***

Magnus sheds his coat and shoes the second he enters the loft. He has to catch himself on the wall to keep from tumbling over, hit by a sudden bout of dizziness. Though his spirits lifted by his conversation with Dot, his physical state has worsened severely throughout the day. A sharp pressure pushes against his skull. His teeth chatter as shivers wrack his frame. He’s so cold. He has to find a way to warm up.

With heavy and uncooperative limbs, Magnus stumbles his way past the bedroom and into the bathroom. Though a shower sounds wonderful, he doesn’t think he has it in himself to keep from falling over. It’s as if all the energy has been drained from his body with that short walk home. He runs a bath instead. Dumping his clothes unceremoniously into a pile on the floor, lets himself sink into the tub.

The water is warm and comforting, the heat lulling him into a sort of trance. He slides down to rest his head against the ceramic edge. The ache in his muscles eases up. Without permission, his eyes close.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed when he opens his eyes, but the once soothing water is now ice cold. The tips of his fingers are wrinkled and pale and gooseflesh covers his arms. He lifts himself out of the tub with clumsy, uncoordinated movements. Pulling on whatever clothes he can find, he shuffles into the bedroom.

He feels a hundred times worse than he did before. A sudden coughing fit has him doubling over, gasping for breath. His hands shake uncontrollably, and a heavy fog settles within his mind. He can’t think. All he wants is sleep. When the shadows finally fade from his vison, he tumbles face first onto the bed and lets some well-needed rest claim him.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus is surprisingly quiet for as ill as he is. Alec is used to being around Isabelle and Jace who tend to complain and whine, but Magnus silently eats the soup Alec feeds him with a far-away look in his eyes.
> 
> “How is it?” he asks.
> 
> Magnus’ lips are chapped, dark circles ring his eyes and his hair sticks out in all directions. Yet when a soft smile curls his lips, it’s still the most beautiful thing Alec has ever seen. “It’s good.”
> 
> Alec’s heart stutters. “I’m glad you like it,” he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Alec finds a bed-ridden Magnus, and takes care of him the best he can.

With a drawn-out sigh, Alec slips out of his coat and hangs it on the rack, letting his shoes hit the floor beside it. He’s finally home after a long day at the Institute. His shoulders and neck are stiff from sitting behind his desk for hours, slouched over endless heaps of reports. While he would never give up his position as Head of the Institute, he does miss going on missions. He longs for that rush of adrenaline from fighting demons, rather than the hand cramps he gets from signing reports all day.

“You home?” he calls out. The loft is quiet. It’s a few hours past sunset, the curtains pulled back to reveal heavy clouds creeping along the horizon. A storm is supposed to roll in some time after midnight.

His question is left unanswered. He frowns. Magnus should have been back by now.

Alec knows Magnus has been struggling with the loss of his magic and his own near-death experience, can see through that mask Magnus has so carefully constructed. Alec hopes his time with Dorothea helped him find some solace.

He stumbles around in the darkness of the loft, making his way towards the bedroom. In the shadows, he makes out a lump lying on the bed. He turns on the lamp sitting on the nightstand. The yellow glow reveals a sleeping Magnus, fully clothed and curled on top of the sheets, as if he couldn’t have been bothered to crawl under them. His hair is damp, his sharp features drawn in a frown.

Alec isn’t all too surprised. Magnus looked tired that morning, despite his efforts to hide it. Perhaps a nap is just what he needed. He brushes a strand of hair off Magnus’ forehead and startles, surprised to feel that Magnus’ skin is alarmingly warm and sweaty. _That can’t be good_.

“Magnus,” he whispers, trying to pull him from his sleep.

After a few more tries, Magnus wakes. He cracks his eyes open with a groan. “Alexander?” he croaks, pushing himself up with trembling arms. A nasty, wet cough rattles his frame.

“Are you okay?” Worry swirls within Alec’s stomach. There’s a feverish look in Magnus’ eyes, is clothes rumpled and cheeks flushed. His chest stutters with every inhale.

Alec doesn’t understand. Every symptom suggests Magnus is sick, but that’s impossible. Warlocks aren’t capable of catching something as mundane as a cold. Could it be a side effect of losing his magic, or something else entirely? He doesn’t know what to do.

“What time is it?” Magnus slurs. He gives a half-hearted push, lifting himself off the bed to reach for his phone, but he loses his balance. He sways, nearly toppling back onto the mattress.

“Woah.” Alec jumps to his feet, catching him before he hits the ground. “Are you alright?” He wraps his arm around Magnus’ waist.

Magnus frowns. All the color has drained from his face, his complexion pale and sweaty. “I don’t feel so good,” he mumbles.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his heart racing a mile a minute. Magnus is nearly dead weight in his arms. Alec’s body is the only thing keeping him from sliding onto the ground.

“Bathroom,” Magnus manages to whisper.

With his support, they rush to the bathroom. Magnus sinks to his knees and promptly heaves the meager contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Alec’s brain short-circuits. He stares at Magnus in shock. _What the hell is going on?_

Then common-sense kicks in. He leans down and joins him on the cold floor, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “It’s okay, I’m right here,” he whispers. His heart pounds in his chest. He doesn’t know what this is, what’s making Magnus so sick. It frightens him.

Time stretches on as they sit there. When the worst of it seems to have passed, he helps dress Magnus in a pair of sweatpants and one of his own sweaters. They head back into the bedroom, where Magnus slides under the covers this time. He’s fast asleep before Alec can even say a word.

He exhales a heavy breath through his nose, running his hands through his hair. _What now?_

***

Alec paces back and forth in the living room, the sound of his feet the only noise disturbing the silence in the loft. He rubs his thumb and index finger together, over and over again.

Catarina is supposed to meet him soon. He called her a few hours ago, asking if she could take a look at Magnus. He knows how to take care of a simple flu or cold, but if there is any chance of this was caused by magic … He needs to be sure.

A knock sounds from the loft’s entrance. Alec rushes to the door, Catarina’s warm but tired smile greeting him as he opens it. “Thanks for coming,” he sighs into her shoulder as he offers her a welcoming hug.

“Sorry it took me so long,” she says. “My shift at the hospital ran late.”

Alec leads her into the bedroom, where Magnus has been asleep for the past few hours. He hasn’t moved from his curled-up position under the sheets. His skin is clammy and pale, chest heaving with labored, wheezing breaths.

He tries not to hover as Catarina works. He shuffles aimlessly around the loft, righting fallen books and repositioning pillows on the sofa. Eventually, he settles on making some coffee. He is in the middle of pulling two mugs from the shelf when she finally reappears.

“It’s nothing magical,” she sighs as she slumps into a seat at the kitchen island. “He’s got a bad case of the flu, but with the right medication, he should be feeling better in a few days.”

“The flu,” Alec repeats slowly. He focuses on pouring his coffee. “I thought warlocks were immune to things like that.”

“We are. Our magic acts like an immune-system, warding us against most mundane and magical diseases.” Catarina readjusts her shawl. She takes the steaming cup of coffee with a hum. “Magnus’ case is different. Without his magic he’s left vulnerable to certain things. The flu happens to be one of them.”

Alec’s grip around his mug tightens. The guilt he had been trying to keep at bay comes crashing into him like a tidal wave. He rubs at his burning eyes. If only they had tried harder, had found another way to free Jace from Lilith’s grasp. Then Magnus wouldn’t have felt the need to give up his magic to save him.

“He’ll be alright, Alec,” Catarina says softly, reaching over to squeeze his hand. Dark shadows ring her eyes. “We’ll figure this out.”

Her words kindle a spark of hope in Alec’s chest. He inhales deeply and nods. “And for now?”

She snaps her fingers. A white capped pill bottle appears on the counter. “Give him one of these twice a day. Preferably with some food, if he can keep anything down.”

Alec nods. He can do that. “Thank you,” he says. “For everything.”

Catarina’s eyes soften. “Of course, Alec.”

As the door shuts behind her when she leaves, Alec gathers the bottle, a book and some water, more determined than ever.

***

The sudden beeping of his phone startles Alec from his book. He grabs it off the coffee table and stops the timer. Picking up the tray and pill bottle, he heads into the bedroom.

A few days have passed since Catarina’s visit. Getting Magnus to take his medication was difficult at first. He would barely stay awake, trapped in the clutches of his fever and during the sparse moments where he was lucid enough, he could barely eat anything Alec brought him. Magnus spent more time with a trash bin in his hands than asleep during the first day.

Now that he is finally able to stomach light foods, Alec decided to venture into the kitchen once more. He found a recipe for soup in one of Magnus’ many cookbooks. It was easy enough to follow, and his first attempt didn’t taste all that bad.

He sets the food down on the nightstand and removes the warm, dried up washcloth from Magnus’ forehead and wets it. It seems to offer some relief, as Magnus’ pinched face eases up once the cool fabric touches his skin.

Alec doesn’t want to wake him. Even with a raging fever, he looks peaceful in his sleep. Free from the all the pain the world has caused him. Younger, somehow.

He clasps Magnus’ hand in his own. Having removed his many rings earlier, he now traces vague patterns with his thumb along Magnus’ bare skin.

Magnus twitches. The serene look on his face turns into a frown. He mumbles something, too quiet for Alec to understand.

He leans closer. “It’s okay,” he says, brushing a finger across Magnus’ cheek. “I’m right here.”

Magnus doesn’t wake. He starts twisting and turning, muttering under his breath.

“It’s okay,” Alec soothes. “You’re okay.”

He starts thrashing around, clutching at the sweat-soaked sheets. “No” he says, “No, no-”

Alec shakes his arm slightly. “Magnus, please,” he begs, “Wake up.” His heart pounds in his chest. Magnus has never behaved like this during a dream before.

“No!” he suddenly yells, crying out in a language Alec doesn’t understand, swinging his arms around. Alec barely has the time to react before Magnus hits him, sending him tumbling off the bed and onto the carpeted floor. He groans. A dull ache blooms across the left side of his face. He pulls himself back on his feet. “Magnus, it’s just a dream,” he pleads.

With a sudden jolt and a gasp for breath, Magnus opens his eyes. He scrambles up against the bedpost and clutches the sheets with trembling hands. With a feverish glare his eyes dart around the room, still lost in the remnants of his nightmare.

“It’s okay,” Alec says softly. “You’re okay.” He slowly sinks onto the mattress with his hands raised, some distance between them. “You’re safe.”

Magnus blinks a few times.

“You’re safe,” he repeats.

Magnus’ breathing slows to a normal pace, his hands coming to rest in his lap. “Alexander,” he croaks, a frown furrowing his brow. He glances around, finally taking in the tray on the bedside table and Alec at the foot of the bed. “What happened?” He coughs into the crook of his elbow.

“You had a bad dream.” Alec moves closer. He places a gentle hand on Magnus’ palm and rubs soothing figures into his skin.

“Oh,” Magnus mumbles, confused and in a daze. His eyes flutter, head drooping. He looks so exhausted, even though all he has done is rest.

“Here,” Alec says. “Take your medicine.” He can’t help the guilt that gnaws at his stomach. He knows what it’s like to be sick, to be exhausted beyond belief, yet here he is, keeping Magnus from his sleep.

Magnus is surprisingly quiet for as ill as he is. Alec is used to being around Isabelle and Jace who tend to complain and whine, but Magnus silently eats the soup Alec feeds him with a far-away look in his eyes.

“How is it?” he asks.

Magnus’ lips are chapped, dark circles ring his eyes and his hair sticks out in all directions. Yet when a soft smile curls his lips, it’s still the most beautiful thing Alec has ever seen. “It’s good.”

Alec’s heart stutters. “I’m glad you like it,” he says.

After eating all his stomach can handle, Magnus swallows the pills with a grimace. He settles back against the pillows, buried underneath the sheets. His eyes slide closed with a content hum when Alec changes the cloth on his forehead one last time.

When he starts to leave, Magnus grasps his arm with a warm, shaking hand. “Stay with me?” he whispers.

How could he ever say no to that? He slides in beside him, wrapping an arm around his trembling frame and pulling him in close. He buries his nose in Magnus’ hair.

Magnus stifles a cough “Thank you,” he whispers against Alec’s chest. He doesn’t have to elaborate. Alec can hear the unspoken meaning. _Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for staying by my side._

_Thank you for loving me._

Alec kisses his head. “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on twitter @rachelwi98 or tumblr @raewrites98! Please feel free to say hi :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is something I had laying around for a very long time, and finally decided to publish. It's simple and sweet, a hurt/comfort fic centered around Magnus and his magic loss. I have yet to watch season 3B, though, so it probably deviates quite a bit from canon after 3x10. All chapters are written, just putting the final touches on them!
> 
> You can find me on twitter (@rachelwi98) or tumblr (@raewrites98)! Thanks for reading <3


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